


Not That Kind of Hole in the Wall

by jive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Ass Play, Coming Untouched, Creampie, Dubious Consent, Groping, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Rimming, Stuck in a wall, mutual consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jive/pseuds/jive
Summary: Jack couldn't say he'd ever been in a predicament like this one before, but he definitely knew that the proper reaction to some stranger groping your ass while you were stuck in a wall was to scream and shout and protest in as firm and clear a way as possible. It was most certainly not to get aroused and want for more.In which Jack Morrison finds himself between a rock and a hard place (somewhat literally).





	Not That Kind of Hole in the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the same universe as my Glory Hole ficlets ([1](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8176558/chapters/19113481), [2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8176558/chapters/19148440)) from Kinktober 2016.
> 
> While there are references to R76 in this fic, this is not actually an R76 fic. Please keep that in mind.

In hindsight, Jack should've taken more time and opened up the hole a little wider like Diaz had suggested.

The two of them were the last ones left on their team, the last two members of the blue team to evade capture. The red team had picked off their teammates one-by-one until after almost 23 hours of the training exercise, the two of them were the only ones still free.

They had been making such good progress and doing so well, too, working as a team to disorient and disable any and all red team members stupid enough to try to capture them without any plans. Diaz with her destructive punches and kicks — _“Reyes never said we couldn't fight back,”_ she said — and Jack with his sheer speed and free running — _“For god’s sake, Morrison, just call it parkour!”_ — made them a pair to be reckoned with. They were even close to breaking the record of longest time evading capture!

That is, until Jack made one of biggest mistakes ever during his time in the SEP. Perhaps his life, even.

“You're stuck, aren't you?” Diaz asked, somehow able to sound completely unimpressed while raising her voice loud enough for Jack to hear from the other side of the stone wall.

It was an awkward position to be in, for sure, what with the height difference between the ground outside and the floor of the building leaving his torso pressed flat to the ground while his legs slightly dangled on the other side. His toes scraped against the dirt, barely making contact. Jack could get the soles of his standard-issue boots to touch the ground only with some very uncomfortable stretching that wedged his torso further into the wall.

Nevertheless, Jack did his best to try and free himself again. He wiggled himself again, pushing against the hard, unyielding rock with his hands and grassy dirt with his feet. Though his toes had somewhat of a purchase on the ground, they didn't give enough leverage to help all that much. After a few moments of useless scraping against the grass, Jack abandoned the use of his legs entirely, focusing all of his body's strength into his arms to push himself out. He strained for a few moments, then stopped completely, groaning in resignation when his body didn't even budge an inch.

Diaz eventually grabbed his legs, and tried to help push, but no luck. Jack was stuck inside a wall with no hope of getting free unless he was dug out. And with the time still ticking away on the clock and the increasing risk of both of them getting captured the longer she stuck around, Jack was starting to get a little anxious.

“Seems like it,” he replied, silently praying no red team members were nearby to hear his shouting. “Injections beefed me up even more than I thought. Shit...”

“Got that right,” Diaz scoffed, squeezing his calf and slapping him on the ass for emphasis. “You had even scrawnier chicken legs than Santiago did during the first week. It's almost disgusting how Captain America this stuff’s made you.”

Jack yelped indignantly, and tried to kick his leg backwards blindly to shake her hand off. Sure enough, Diaz dodged his kick with ease, and give him yet another slap on the ass, this time on the other cheek, for his attempt. He wiggled around, kicking in protest at the treatment for a few moments, falling still when the gravity of the situation fell over him once more. Jack sighed quietly in disappointment and resignation.

“Diaz,” he said, “there's no point in both of us getting captured ‘cause I was too dumb to widen the hole before trying to go through. Leave me here and get going! At least I can buy you some time if Red Team does find me first.”

“You don't have to tell me twice,” Diaz replied. Her hand slipped off his ass and she took a few steps away, making to leave. That is, until she paused mid-step to speak again. “If I get captured first, how long do you want me to wait to tell them where you are?”

“Uh… an hour? Maybe two?” Jack shouted back, unsure. “Not too long. I don't wanna spend the entire night stuck here if I can help it…”

“Four hours. Got it.”

“You're hilarious, Diaz, I'll make you regret it if I really do get stuck here for four hours,” Jack grumbled.

“I'd like to see you try, Morrison,” Diaz laughed again. “Later.”

“Later,” Jack said, trying not to let his disappointment leak into his voice too much.

After several moments of silence, Jack let out another sigh and glanced at his watch. He frowned slightly at the 1644 displayed on the face, unable to decide whether or not he should be happy with the time. On the one hand, it was going to get dark soon, meaning if he stayed still, there was likely less a chance he d be discovered by the Red Team. On the other, he was stuck in a wall, utterly helpless.

His predicament all but chased the adrenaline rush from his body fast, and fatigue slowly began to creep its way in. Unable to help himself, Jack let out a rather large yawn, and smacked his lips together tiredly. He'd been running, ducking, dodging, bobbing, and weaving for the last 23 hours with almost no time for rest, and only 3 hours of sleep beforehand. He felt a little guilty for it, given Diaz was still out there fighting the good fight against Red Team, but keeping his eyes open was becoming more and more of a struggle the more time had passed. It didn't help that the ground beneath his torso was cool and surprisingly comfortable. He folded his arms and rested his cheek against his forearms, deciding to rest his eyes for a few moments, at least.

A ‘few moments’ turned into several hours, and Jack eventually woke to find his predicament hadn't changed. At least, that's what he thought at first.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and Jack suddenly had the strange feeling he wasn't alone. He tried to scramble off of his stomach, to no avail. The unforgiving stone wall held fast to his waist, and Jack could only groan in discomfort at the rocks digging into his stomach.

Still, the nagging feeling that he wasn't alone didn't go away, and Jack glanced around in the darkness — the sun had long since set and scant few beams of moonlight penetrated the ruins of the building he and Diaz had been taking temporary shelter in — and saw nothing. He did, however, feel vibrations in the ground near his feet, and he called out for help, kicking his legs in the hopes that the extra movement would also draw the attention of whoever it was on the other side.

“Hello?! Who's there?” Jack yelled, “Could I get some help, please?”

Inwardly, Jack prayed that it was a person and not some sort of bear on the other side, and his legs fell still after a few moments. No answer came from the other side, and, disappointed, Jack sighed and rested his forehead against the ground.

“Goddamn it,” he groaned, “How much longer am I gonna be stuck he-”

A hand on his back — what small part of it was sticking out from the wall, anyway — interrupted him, and, though strange,  the touch sent Jack's heart soaring. He laughed in sheer relief.

“Hello?! Oh thank god! Hey, I'm not sure if you heard me earlier just now, but I'm kinda stuck! Diaz tried to get me out, but no dice. Think you could help?" Jack asked, his mood much lighter than how it was just moments ago.

But when he didn't hear any sort of response, his joy began to wane.

“Or maybe get someone else to-?” He began to ask, only to snap his mouth shut when that hand slipped around to grab his flank, aided by a second holding the other side. “Wh-What are you doing?”

Again, there was no response, and Jack heart began to thump in his chest as his anxiety started to creep up on him. The hands seemed to be blatantly ignoring him, more preoccupied with examining his lower body than they were interested in answering him, and when the hands moved from caressing his flank to rubbing and stroking his hip, Jack began to wiggle in protest.

“If you're not going to help, then-!” he cut himself off with a gasp as the hands slipped even further down his body, groping and squeezing his ass through his standard-issue sweatpants. The hands, large and firm and insistent in their grip, made it abundantly clear that the person on the other side was much more interested in molesting him than they were in aiding him. They even went so far as to hold Jack's hips still when he flailed and jerked his legs to buck them off, fingers tightening hard enough to eke another gasp from Jack's lips and sent blood rushing to his gut and cheeks at the sensation.

When Jack fell still, the hands resumed their work, groping and grasping and squeezing Jack's glutes in a manner no one could ever mistake as anything other than suggestive, and Jack had to bite his lip to stifle the noises that threatened to bubble from his mouth. Fingers spread to cup each cheek, and Jack nearly found himself moaning when thick thumbs sought purchase in his cleft and then curled to spread his cheeks

Jack couldn't say he'd ever been in a predicament like this one before, but he definitely knew that the proper reaction to some stranger groping your ass while you were stuck in a wall was to scream and shout and protest in as firm and clear a way as possible. It was most certainly not to get aroused and want for more.

And yet…

And yet.

Jack could feel the ache of an erection begin to form at his groin. His face burned with want and shame the longer and more insistently the hands continued to play with his ass. A yelp all but flew from his lips when those hands let go briefly only to slap him firmly on each cheek. He struggled to swallow down a moan when those clever fingers kneaded them immediately after. And he gasped when those fingers curled into firm, clothed flesh, and adjusted their grip on Jack's ass.

A thumb let go of his right cheek, only to push even firmer and further into the valley between it and Jack's left cheek, prodding against the opening that lay hidden within, barely protected by Jack's clothing.

“A-Ah! Hey...!” Jack choked out, legs trembling when the thumb began to apply firm pressure against his clothed entrance. It rubbed circles into it, as if following the swell of his rim. The dry, yet stimulating friction sent shivers of want up Jack's spine, each passing moment fanning the flames of arousal burning inside of him, as if reminding him of how long it had been since anyone else had touched him that way.  The thumb was relentless in its actions, massaging stifled whimpers and moans out of Jack with each movement, forcing evidence of Jack's arousal to leak out the slit of his now fully erect cock and stain his cotton undergarments.

“Fuck…” he moaned, voice shaking just as much as his body was.

Then, just as suddenly as the hands began to play with him, they pulled away. Instinctively, Jack felt his body try to follow them. His back arched into the wall to no avail, blocked by the impervious stone, and he cried out at the loss.

Just as he opened his mouth to protest — Jack still couldn't decide whether to he wanted to tell the person to stop or keep going — he began to hear knocking on the wall from the other side. They rapped a few times against the stone, and both confused and frustrated, Jack didn't know how to respond. After a few moments of silence, the knocking returned again, just like before. It wasn't until the third time — no doubt what would have been the last if Jack responded negatively  — that Jack felt the pattern of vibrations traveling up his spine, through the wall, and his cock throbbed immediately in recognition.

He knew that knock. It was a code. And not just any code.

His face burned even hotter in equal parts shame and arousal.

It was the knock used at the glory hole he would service on injection days. Days when the serum would send his libido spiking to almost unbearable levels. Days where his body just wouldn't calm down until he'd tired himself out sexually. Days that were only bearable after he'd had at least 3 loads of cum down his throat, and climaxed just as much from being used so thoroughly and shamefully.

But he'd only ever used his mouth and hands at the glory hole! This —  “ _this’_ being fucked anonymously like this, with his entire lower body completely vulnerable to the whims of some faceless john — was a completely different beast altogether. Not to mention, at least the glory hole had privacy. At least Jack had some semblance of control over what was being done to him. At least he had some sort of privacy in that what happened in those stalls were secrets kept between only those inside.

Here, out in the open — with people still looking for him, no less — all of that was taken away. Jack was at someone else's mercy completely. For all he knew the person on the other side wasn't alone, or if they were, there was a good chance the both of them would be discovered.

...but fuck if the idea of being caught getting fucked in public and used like a toy didn't get Jack's cock twitching even harder in its clothed confines. His face felt so hot with shame and lust, Jack could swear if he looked in a mirror he'd see a tomato where his head was.

Almost too quickly, Jack knocked his enthusiastic agreement back through the brick to the person waiting on the other side. His hands trembled in anticipation and excitement. And though he was already on the other side of the wall without any possible way of seeing the stranger's face, Jack closed his eyes for fear of being brought back to the reality of his predicament prematurely.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, or perhaps it was the effects of the SEP at work, closing his eyes seemed to heighten all of Jack's other senses. He could feel the faint vibrations of the person on the other side shifting their stance. He could hear the muffled moan being let out — deep and masculine — as the stranger took hold of his asscheeks again, and echoed it with one of his own when the kneading and rubbing and prodding returned. A brief image of dark, scarred, and calloused hands flashed through his mind, and Jack bit back a whimper at the idea of those same hands being the same ones currently on his ass. Jack could almost imagine the familiar, low, amused chuckling rumbling from between firm lips framed by a neatly groomed beard, and shivered at the thought. The idea that _he_ would fuck Jack, let alone do it so brazenly like this... Well, those thoughts were often the reason Jack turned his shower knob to ice cold on many a mornings.

Questing, greedy hands brought Jack out of his small daydream fueled by wishful thinking and late-night fantasies, as they took hold of his waistbands — both of his sweatpants and of his underwear — and tugged them down to his knees, exposing his ass completely to the stranger on the other side. Still caught beneath the layers of fabric now stretched in the front, Jack's cock gave a twitch in approval, willing, eager, and totally ready for the what was to come next.

Suddenly, Jack's feet were kicked apart, forcing his stance to widen. Consequently, Jack's ass was spread open as well. His hole twitched as it was exposed to the cool night air, and as if on cue, the teasing thumb from earlier returned, prodding and rubbing it teasingly, as if gauging its responsiveness. Jack could only gasp and bite his lower lip at the sensation, utterly thankful that he'd cleaned himself rather thoroughly in anticipation of some quality alone time in his room before the training exercise started. Though he no doubt reeked of sweat and mud and leaves, he knew at least that part of him was pristine.

And quite obviously, the stranger thought so too, as after a few brief moments of dry rubbing at his eager but unprepared hole, Jack suddenly found his entrance covered with a hot, wet heat. All too quickly, it was followed with an equally hot and wet _something_ stroking and prodding at the exposed rim. There was no mistaking what that _something_ was. It was a tongue, and the idea of someone putting their mouth on such an intimate part of himself — someone Jack didn't even know the identity of — sent Jack's arousal skyrocketing.

His cock twitched and throbbed between his legs, and more often than not, Jack found himself moaning and whimpering and biting at his own knuckles to stifle the noises that began to bubble out from his panting mouth. There was no hesitation to be found in the way the way the stranger’s clever tongue laved at his entrance, slicking his sensitive rim with ample amounts of spit, and wedging itself into the tight clench of Jack's body. It pushed and prodded at Jack's hole, insistent on gaining entrance, and after what felt like simultaneously both too long and too short a time spent coaxing it into relaxing, the skillful tongue finally pushed its way inside.

Unable to help himself, Jack let out a sobbing moan. “Fuck…!” he groaned, body shaking from how good that wonderful mouth was making him feel. It had been far too long since he'd been fucked by anyone else, let alone had his ass toyed with in such a manner, and he quickly found himself wiggling his lower body in an effort to not only get that tongue deeper into his body but get more stimulation for his neglected cock, which had been aching against taut fabric for so long. Jack cringed inwardly at the thought of what his pants and underwear looked like now, precum soaking into the thin fabric and no doubt leaving obvious and shameful stains he'll later regret.

A harsh and loud spank to his ass made Jack quickly regret his choice to move, and just as quickly as that hot mouth had covered him, it pulled away, leaving Jack to gasp and shiver as his hole twitched from sudden chill of the air meeting his now-wet entrance. Jack whimpered at the pain and the loss, and forced himself to hold still, even when his heightened sense of hearing registered the tell-tale shuffling of clothes from the other side. A slight bit of panic gripped his racing heart; surely the stranger wasn't going to just push right in? A tongue and a bit of spit weren't nearly enough preparation to do anything properly!

Jack jolted and gasped in surprise when he felt a glob of something drip onto his entrance, sending yet another chill up his body at the sensation. It was far too cold and far too slick to be spit, and left Jack wondering just what kind of person would be running around with lube or lotion in their pockets. Whoever it was, they knew precisely what they were doing, as those clever fingers from before returned to his ass, and without any preamble beyond the addition of slick to Jack's hole, one pressed its way into Jack's body.

The thick digit pulled back and pushed in once, then twice. Both times almost torturously slow, as if to test Jack's reaction. Both times, Jack moaned needily, hole clenching around thick gun callouses as if begging for more. And on the third pull, the hand obliged him, pushing in with a second finger with such little warning — nothing beyond a twist of the wrist followed with the crooking of a finger against eager walls, just shy of Jack's prostate — that yet another moan was punched out of Jack's throat.

“Oh god, please…” he begged, clawing at the stone ground beneath his torso. His body ached with need. The desire for more gripped his body so strongly it felt like a spring wound tight with arousal, desperate to uncoil and release every bit of stored tension trapped within as the stranger pushed Jack closer and closer to the edge with the clever movements of those fingers.

And those fingers, lord, those fingers.

They pushed in and out of Jack's body in the most torturously pleasurable of ways. They scissored and twisted, this way and that to stretch Jack's body from the inside with no discernable pattern or rhythm whatsoever, constantly keeping Jack's body guessing. They teased Jack almost cruelly with the way they would rub against his inner walls, fingertips mere millimeters away from Jack's swollen prostate.

And Jack, so lost in overwhelming need and sensations, could barely scramble enough control over his body to start protesting as those amazing fingers began to pull out ever-so slowly from his body. He started crying out, “No, please! Put them back! I need-!” only to have all objections die in his throat as a the two fingers returned with a third.

Blue eyes rolled backward in pleasure as the added digit stretched Jack's entrance even further, pushed even deeper, and pressed against hot, tight heat even harder. The clever fingers seemed to finally abandon all notion of patiently stretching Jack's body to prepare him for what was to come next, and fucked themselves in and out of his twitching entrance without any sort of mercy whatsoever. Unlike before, where they purposely avoided Jack's prostate in what was undoubtedly an effort to prolong Jack's pleasure, they seemed to aim directly for it, prodding and rubbing at it with such intensity and purpose that within moments of adding the third digit, Jack felt himself all but thrown off the precipice.

The burning hot coil in his gut snapped, and with gasping, almost yelping moans, Jack came completely untouched. Ropes of semen spilled his arousal into his pants and underwear, and Jack felt his hole clench around those thick, imposing fingers with each pulse. “G-God! Fu-Fuck!” he cried out, groaning and gasping as the fingers continued to fuck him through his orgasm.

Finally, after his climax had been all but milked from his body, the fingers slipped from entrance, leaving the stretched and slicked rim twitching and aching and ever-so-slightly gaping at the loss. Jack let out a weak whimper, his body slumped and slightly numb from being fucked so thoroughly. The fingers had filled him so wonderfully that he almost felt empty inside without their presence.

Before he could dwell on the feeling of emptiness for too long, however, something hot, firm, and even thicker than the three fingers combined made its presence known at Jack’s entrance. Jack could barely gasp before it pushed its way into his pliant body, knocking the breath right out of his lungs.

“Fuck!” Jack groaned, suddenly feeling even fuller than he ever was before.

There was no mistaking what was inside him now — a cock, and a marvelously thick one at that — and having barely even recovered from his orgasm, Jack could feel his rim weakly clench around its imposing presence, body shaking as it began to piston in and out of his pliant body without any reservation. Whimpers and moans were forced from Jack's throat with every thrust, each one feeling even more forceful than the last, as if the stranger were chasing their own climax. It was as if Jack's own pleasure no longer something even worth pursuing, let alone be considered. The cock inside him forced itself in and out, in and out, rhythm erratic and stuttered as it battered Jack's inner walls without any sort of thought whatsoever.

And fuck if the realization that his body was just being used like a cocksleeve, like a toy created only to be used and disposed of, like an object whose sole purpose was just to _get fucked_ _by_ _someone_ didn't get Jack's blood boiling with arousal all over again. Each noisy slap of the stranger’s hips against his ass that rang through Jack's body forced yet another twitch out of Jack's cock — which didn’t so much as even flag in erection after it spent itself earlier — and before long, Jack felt it throb and ache for attention just as much as it did merely moments before. His panting grew deeper and deeper, falling into the rhythm of the stranger’s thrusts. And though Jack's eyes opened, they remained half-lidded, vision completely unfocused as his mind and body lost itself to the sensations once more.

A switch was flipped, and Jack felt himself sinking into the same state he always did when he got caught up in the pleasures he indulged in at his glory hole.

This was bliss. It was heaven, getting fucked like this, so mindlessly, so shamelessly, and so forcefully by some stranger whose face he didn't even know. His moans grew louder and louder, and without thinking, he began to beg to the stranger out loud, “Fuck me. More. Please. Give it to me. I need it.” Words spilled out of him without so much as a thought, and as if the stranger could hear his mindless encouragements, the rhythmic thrusts faltered for second as they adjusted their stance. The heavy cock inside of him pulled back until only its fat head remained inside, tugging ever so slightly against Jack's now-swollen rim. Those strong, firm hands from before gripped Jack tightly by the hips, lifting him up slightly to adjust the angle, and Jack gasped in delight at the feeling of being man-handled with such ease. Before he could even so much as blink, however, the stranger’s hips snapped forward.

And just like that, a delighted moan was punched out of Jack's body with the force of a train. The stranger’s throbbing cock shoved into him up completely, hilting itself inside of Jack's heat, and struck directly against Jack's prostate. Over and over and over again, the stranger thrust themselves in and out if Jack's body, and if the grunts and groans and other noises of approval rumbling from the other side of the wall were any sort of clear indication, the stranger was as close to climax as Jack was once again.

Sure enough, after a few more select, powerful thrusts into Jack's aching hole, the stranger pushed in to the hilt completely, and let out one last, long and drawn-out moan. Their hips twitched against Jack's ass, cock twitching and pulsing as the stranger plummeted over the edge and spilled themselves deep within Jack's body. Though it was only Jack's imagination making him feel like each pulse of the stranger’s cum was filling him up even further than before, Jack nevertheless lost himself to the sensation, and he, too, reached his end. His own aching cock twitched in sympathy, once again spilling his climax in clenching pulses that left Jack moaning with each spurt of release.

Without so much as waiting for Jack to recover from his second orgasm — just as intense as his first, if not even more so — the stranger extracted themselves from Jack's body, letting their own cum leak from the now-sloppy hole and slowly trickle down the inside of Jack’s thighs. Still immersed in the afterglow and mind too clouded with pleasure, Jack barely registered the sensations. And even if he didn't have his brains fucked out of him, what was there he could do about it save for clench his hole to stop from leaking further? Still trapped in the hole, with his torso lay flat on the ground while his lower body dangled almost bonelessly out of the hole on the other side of the wall, Jack could do nothing but rest and recover himself as he sluggishly came out of his clouded state of sexual ecstasy.

He barely registered the shuffling of feet on the other side of the wall, didn't even think about the stranger on the other side scrambling to fix their own clothes, and didn’t so much as flinch when they pulled his pants up for him — but not before catching the stray rivulet of cum on Jack's thigh, and scooping it back into Jack's sore hole, earning them a weak and pained whimper for their trouble. Thoughts of the training exercise he was still in barely a twinkle in Jack's mind, but thankfully, they seemed to be on the forefront of the stranger’s as they left the scene just as quickly as they had appeared, no doubt to get help for the man they'd just fucked the brains out of.

Sure enough, what felt like several minutes, if not almost a half-hour later, after Jack had finally come to his senses and the embarrassment and humiliation and, to his shame, lingering traces of arousal had finally sunk in, help finally arrived. Diaz returned to the scene with several members of the SEP in tow, quite a few of them equipped with tools to help chip away at the hole and widen it enough for Jack to get out. They tugged Jack up by the arms and elbows, teasing him for not only getting himself stuck in such a ridiculous situation, but also breaking the record of time spent evading capture to boot.

“You have me to thank for that, you know,” Diaz said, punching him gently on the arm. “If those Blue idiots hadn't been so laser-focused on me, they would've found your pasty ass stuck in that hole ages ago.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jack replied, laughing awkwardly as he rubbed at his arm where Diaz had punched him. “I owe you one.”

Thankfully, no one noticed the damp spot on the front Jack's pants nor the smell of sweat and sex that Jack could just feel was staining his clothes, and if they did, they were kind enough to remain quiet about it. The group slowly made their way out of the abandoned building, Jack chanced a glance back at the hole in the wall, biting his lower lip as his cum-soaked hole clenched in recollection.

To his surprise, he felt a hand grope at his ass for a brief moment, coy and firm and intimately familiar, before slipping off and letting go. His face felt like it had almost burst into flame with how quickly a flush found its way onto his cheeks, and Jack nearly yelped in shock. He quickly turned back around to find out who the culprit was, but to no avail. Whoever it was had mingled in with the rest of the group, and Jack was left Just as embarrassed and clueless as before.

“Jack, you planning on crawling back in there or what?” Diaz called from somewhere near the front of the group, clearly aware Jack had fallen behind.

“Ah, sorry,” Jack replied, giving the hole one last, lingering look before he ran off to join his comrades.


End file.
